Driven by Hatred
by LaLa978
Summary: Citrine Sinclair comes from District 14, the fresh water district. She gets picked to be in the 74th hunger games. As the title suggests, her hatred is the only thing driving her forward to win, but will someone change her heart? D3 boy/OC
1. Prologue

Driven by Hatred

_**AN: **_HI! If you haven't read my other fanfics, this is a totally different story than those. I have this finished on paper already, so I'll just type each chapter out and upload them. I hope you enjoy and I hope this will be an awesome story to you guys.

Prologue

Poised in her position, the young girl watched in fright as an even older boy crawled at her feet. He seemed afraid of her, and she realized it was the sword in her hand that made him crawl away. She looked around the ruins, remembering she was being watched. After she looked around, she looked at the boy, seeing he was still in the same position. "You could've ran…" She said to the boy, wondering why he didn't move when she was distracted. He only shook his head.

"This has gone on too long," He simply answers. He breathes out a sigh. "The audience would like you to kill me, so be it."

She shook her head, holding the sword in front of her. "I don't want to do this," She said, stepping forward. He only nodded. "You know… I haven't killed anyone…"

He chuckles. "Yet, we're the last two standing."

She gulps, then, raising the sword above her, she whispers, "I'm sorry" before bring the sword down on his neck. He makes a sound, and then he stops all together. She sobbed, tears pooling in her eyes. She kneels on the ground, holding her head in her hands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the victor of the 49th Hunger Games!"


	2. Chapter 1 - Never

Driven by Hatred

_**AN: **_This is the first chapter of this story! I hope you enjoy and please review and favorite or whatever you want to do. You can leave honest reviews, meaning I just don't want to see 'Good story!' I also want to see things like… 'You could do better on the details, and the writing is good. I think you could do better on the dialogue also' or something like that because I don't have a beta.

Chapter 1: Never

Theme song: Fragile by Meagan McCauley

25 years… It has been 25 years since the last victor of District 14, and yet the victor is in fact my own mother. We had fancier clothes and foods then the entire 14th District. Please notice the past tense of that sentence; we will get to that later. We are actually the 13th district after District 13 was terminated by the Capitol, but they didn't want to change the name. So we kept the number 14.

Although my mother won and we had better food, she trained me to fish outside of our district, climb trees, and make fishing equipment out of rocks and sticks. That was until she died when I was 13. We were moved to my father's old home. My brother, Raigan, was only 8 at the time. He didn't know much of what happened, but he still has nightmares.

My mother won the games at the age of 12, the only 12 year old winner. She was entered once into the bowl because she had to, but she entered her name 6 more times: 2 for her parents, 3 for her siblings, and once for herself. Stupid tessera.

I had my name entered 5 times when I was 12: once because I had to, 2 for my parents and 1 for Raigan. Now that I'm 15, I enter my name 4 times since my mother died. Thankfully, Raigan is only 10, which means he isn't old enough to get his name entered yet. He still worries for me when I go to the reaping, but I tell him it's impossible for me to get picked. I know I'm lying, but it's best for he won't worry. If I do get picked, I know he knows how to climb trees and fish. I taught him myself after Mother died. The reaping… is today.

Seeing the sun go through my window, I realize that I didn't sleep, but I only thought of everything that worries me. How many times have I been entered? Well, calculating the rules, I'm 15 now… from 12 that's 4 times. With my name entered for tessera, that's 14 times; it's been 18 times that my name is entered. "May the odds be ever in your favor," I say with the stupid Capitol accent. I stand up and head through my small home. Looking in the only room, I see my brother cuddled with my father. I smile, kissing both of their foreheads.

I head out the door, going to the many swamps in our land. You see, our district is in charge of getting fresh water to the districts and mainly the Capitol. I go past the main swamp, heading to the gate that traps us inside. Beyond the gate is crystal clear lakes and wildlife. No one dares to go beyond the gate, except me. I am the only one that does go out of the land. I've never had a friend, never.

I go to my one spot: a tree high above the lake. I don't even go near the edge of the lake because the Capitol left one of their booby traps around it from the Dark Days. Not a land mine, but a smoke. If you step on one of them, the smoke goes up. The smoke goes through your nervous system, killing you. I know because some of the wildlife has triggered it.

I climb up the tree, going to the spots that are practically made for my feet and hands. I get to my sturdy branch, straddling it, making sure to get a good grip before I get my homemade hunting weapon: a sharpened rock shaped into an arrowhead that's tied with a rope that's attached to the tree. But, before I hunt and put blood into the clean water, I get a wooden bowl that has a handle. I tied rocks to the bottom of it, so it would sink in the water. I untie the rope from my rock, gently putting the rock into my pocket of my pants, and tie the rope to the handle of my bowl. I lower the bowl to the water, watching the freshwater flow into it. I bring it back, drinking some of the water. I almost moan at the relief in my throat.

I get more bowlfuls of water, putting it in a jug attached to my belt. I finally tie the rope back on the rock, looking at the lake. I get the breadcrumbs from my pocket, dropping them into the water. I see the fish coming to the surface, and I wonder what type of fish it was. I aim, turning the rock in my hand in concentration. I calculate the movement of the fish and how strong and fast I throw. I smile, throwing the rock into the water. It hits one of the fish. The fish starts swimming away, but the rock and the rope won't let it go that far. I let it swim, wanting it to get tired before I pull it up.

As it does, I pull the fish to the surface, seeing it wasn't that valuable of a fish. I sigh, pulling it up. It was small, but still worth something. I put the fish in my pouch that was also attached to my belt, feeling it squirm. I do this a few more times, getting even smaller fish, but like I said before, they're still worth something. I put my rock up, calling it quits for the day. I climb down the tree, having more weight because of the jug of water and the pouch of fish, and head back to the town.

As I get there, I see the workers filling their own jugs. They each have 3 to 4 jugs on their belts, filling them with swamp water. I know that my jug is worth more than 3 of those workers combined. I head to the fish dealer, Madam Evv. She was very close with me because of my fish, but mostly because of my mother. They were best friends when my mother was little, and after she died, Madam Evv became very close to me and my brother.

I get inside of her store and she smiles at me. "Well, look at that! My favorite dealer! Whatcha got for me?" She asks. I open my pouch, plopping down the fish on the counter. There were 6 in total. She purses her lips, looking at each one. "I'll tell you what. The big one I'll trade you for 2 rolls of bread and the rest will get you 1 pouch of seasonal herbs and 2 pouches of grain." I look at the fish, breathing in for what's about to come.

"How about," I start. "The big one will still get me 2 rolls of bread, 2 more fish can get me another roll, I'll get the 1 pouch of grain for the other 2, and I'll have the last fish."

She thinks for a moment before smiling and holding her hand out. "You have a deal!" I take her hand and shake it firmly.

She gets the bread, not fresh from the oven of course, and gets the pouch of grain. She hands them to me, letting me have the fish. She waves as I exit her store.

Next was the water dealer. He pours my jug into the container, seeing its cleanliness. He looks at me suspiciously, but hands over the pouches of healing herbs. "I don't know where you get your water, but I don't care. The Capitol gets pissed if we don't get this water in."

After that, I head home. I know I need to dress up for the Reaping. As I get inside, my brother immediately embraces me. I smile, hugging him back. "The Reaping's today," He says, gazing up at me, his bright blue eyes shining with tears, I sigh.

"Please don't worry," I say. "I'll be fine." I get out of his grasp. "For lunch today, I thought we could have fish and some rolls of bread?" He nods, smiling. My father comes from my room.

"I laid out a dress for you," He says. "You need to look your best."

I nod. "Yes, I know." I give him the pouch with the fish and the rolls of bread. "Cook that while I change, please?"

I go to the room, looking over the dress. It was my mother's. A long green dress with long sleeves and a lace trim at the end. I remember her wearing it on stage since she was the mentor. I guess it's a symbol of her and how she won. I put it on, after a long bath of course, and examine myself in the mirror. It looked better on her. I didn't fill out the curves and the breast part was a bit too tight. It was a little long at the bottom and at the end of the sleeves.

I frown at my long, wavy, raven black hair. What am I going to do with that? I try to remember what my mom used to do with it and could only end up with it in pigtails. I thought it was childish now since I am 15, but she used to put them in the sides. If I put them in the back, I'll look... not that childish. So, I do just that.

I look even more childish, like I'm 13 instead of 15. I leave it, wanting my father to still think I'm his little girl. He always says that. After I put on my rundown shoes, I go into the tiny kitchen with the little table. My brother noticed me first. He smiles, his blue eyes bright with happiness. "Wow! You look amazing!" He exclaims. I chuckle. My father sees me next.

"Wow, Citrine dear, Raigan's right. You look just like your mother," He says, putting the food on the table, and then coming to me, kissing my forehead. "Eat and then go, ok? I want you to be full."

I nod. "Ok, dad."

We eat in silence, having little bits of fish and a roll of bread. Of course, I wasn't full when I finished, neither of us are. I gulp down the last of my water, hearing the call. I sigh, going to head out, but Raigan stops me by hugging me. "Promise you'll not be picked," He says, almost desperately. I hug him.

"Oh, Ray-Ray, You know I can't promise that," I reply, kneeling down. "But I'll say I won't give up to keep you and daddy fed, ok?" He nods. I hug him tightly. "Goodbye for now, ok?"

I stand up and my father kisses my forehead. "I love you, darling," He says. "If you get picked, remember your mother's words."

I nod. "Act careless, get a very low score, and surprise them," I reply, hugging him. "I remember everything she's ever told me."

After he's done hugging me, I go outside. Seeing the other teens walk oh-so-happily, I follow. Lots of teens look as I walk to sign in. Of course, they know me as the daughter of a winner. The stage that was built next to the main swamp wasn't all that big, but it was big enough for the Mayor, the hired mentor from the Capitol, and the escort. With his powdered face, the escort looks down at all of the teens that were coming in. I knew this was his first year because our old escort was Effie, who was bumped up to District 12.

Our Mayor goes to the podium, which is only 2 feet away, rehearsing in his head what he has to say every Reaping. I look around as the space for the teens gets crowded and we are directed to stand with our age group, the youngest in the back and the oldest at the front.

I stand with a bunch of 15 year olds as the clock hits 4 and the Mayor starts talking. I don't pay that much attention since I basically memorized the words since I heard it too damn much. It starts with "Our nation of Panem..." and always ends with "It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks".

As he finishes, he reads the list of victors from District 14, which is only down to one, my mother. As her name is read, a few kids look at me, most with pity, but some with desperation. I could tell that they want my name to be called.

The new escort doesn't bounce to the podium like Effie, but he still walks with pride. He brushes his long hair back as he smiles. "Happy 74th Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor." He goes on and on about whatever he's talking about and I catch a name: Lezzy Moft. I zone out, until he announces, "Now time to pick our 2 tributes and of course, Ladies are always first."

He walks to the bowl full of names and I know 24 of those slips have my name written on them. He reaches his hand in, digging around, as if trying to search for a good name. There's nothing to fear; if my name does get picked, just do as Mother instructed.

He pulls out a slip of paper and I gulp. I close my eyes, but that of course does not block out my hearing as he says the name, happily and cheerfully. It takes a few moments for my ears and my mind to agree on the sound that I just heard. I register the sighing of relief in the crowd of girls; relieving that it wasn't them, but also for District 14 because it was a very good name that Lezzy picked out.

As my ears and mind finally agree, I hear the name ringing out in my head and I come to realize one thing: Citrine Sinclair is me; that's my name that Lezzy had picked from the bowl of hundreds.


End file.
